


The Escape Plan

by SpringZephyr



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Asmodeus (Background), Barbatos (Background), Fluff and Humor, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Other, Reader Insert, Solomon (Background)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29903223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpringZephyr/pseuds/SpringZephyr
Summary: Oh, the lengths you and the prince of the Devildom will go to in order to have a normal, unsupervised date.
Relationships: Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Diavolo/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 56





	The Escape Plan

**Author's Note:**

> Based off the prompt "if we get caught, I'm blaming you".
> 
> If you have motion sickness or a fear of heights, here are some recommended places to stop and start reading:
> 
> Stop at "So you stare deep, deep into his sunglasses, pretending you can see the pale yellows of his eyes instead." and start at "Once you are aware enough to recognize the beating of Diavolo's heart, as he holds you in his arms, rivals your own, you shakily ask, "Is it over?""

"If we get caught," you say, the sight of Diavolo's oversized sunglasses and 80's disco shirt making it difficult to keep your voice level, "I'm blaming you."

His full outfit doesn't resemble anything you'd find even inside of Levi's cosplay closet. You have no idea where Diavolo would've found half of these things, aside from maybe a dumpster, but he looks so proud of himself that you can't entirely hate it.

Regardless of how mismatched it is.

The full outfit consists of a wide rimmed hat, glittery pants that taper at the ankles, and a pair of Diavolo's regular shoes. The shoes, he claimed, were such a minor detail that not even Barbatos would notice - you disagreed, already imagining scenarios where the butler managed to track the two of you down using the imprints left behind from Diavolo's shoes alone.

"Please," you continue, giving Diavolo a couple of head to toe looks as you tried to decide which part of his outfit was the most abominable, "at least change shirts."

Speaking of Barbatos, he was the reason for the costuming.

Casting a charm to keep an outsider's eyes away was easy enough. Diavolo could go out in public places when he so desired - that part wasn't the problem, no. Barbatos is currently preoccupied with a phone call, but you agree with what Diavolo has said in the past:

That it's extremely difficult to enjoy time together in the classic, romantic sense with an extra shadow. Poor Diavolo. All he wants is to experience love the way anyone else would be able to, even if it's only a quick trip to Akudonald's and back.

He opens his mouth to argue about the shirt, when you remind him, "Solomon and Asmodeus can't keep Barbatos distracted on the phone forever."

You already owe them both a favor just for helping out. Asmodeus was willing to do it in exchange for gossip alone, but you're not sure you can survive a double round of taste testing with Solomon if you end up needing their help again.

Diavolo casts a look at the box he's pulled out from underneath his bed. It's not exactly the greatest hiding place, but you can only assume the other household staff didn't consider it important enough to report. "But I only found one good shirt…"

One of his normal, black dress shirts hits him in the face as he looks up again.

"You'll still be in disguise if you wear this instead," you tell him. "Trust me."

If anything, Diavolo's current outfit would've made him  _ more _ noticeable.

You turn your back so he can change again, a wordless command that makes this decision is final. It's almost funny, how shy Diavolo is in some ways - he doesn't mind your hands on him when it's to straighten his tie or fix his collar, but the thought of you watching him change makes him blush. He's always had a valet, so even though he does know how to dress himself, he's used to other people doing it.

"How does this look?" Diavolo asks, a few seconds later.

For someone who rarely has to button shirts without assistance, he's quick at it. "Good," you tell him, after verifying that none of the buttons are out of place. A minor adjustment to his cuffs, and you're on your way to the window. "Let's get going."

Diavolo's room is on a floor high enough to make the vibrant, colorful gardens below look indistinct. The reds and pinks of his rose bushes aren't even visible from this height.

As you open the window, this is the moment that makes you doubt yourself.

"I've got the rug," Diavolo singsongs, none of the same dread present in his voice.

He opens it with a snap, and a surprising amount of dust escapes from the fibers. On the surface, the rug looks like an ordinary rug. Old, with muted colors and a dark stain in one corner, like something you'd find in an antique shop. But this is the Devildom, so…

Diavolo shoves the rug out of the window, giving it a few commands to levitate as he does. Then a few more to adjust the height of the rug, so it hovers just below the window, at a perfect height for stepping onto. Wind ruffles the corners of the rug, making them flap. Although it's a gentle motion, something about the way the breeze catches  _ only _ the corners catches your attention.

Diavolo climbs out the window first, hardly taking the time to test the stability of the rug before both feet are on it. He arranges himself in a sitting position, then offers one gloved hand to you. The other is holding his ridiculous hat in place.

"Grab my hand," Diavolo says.

You tell yourself it's because you never pass up a chance to intertwine fingers with Diavolo if you must, but your foot is on the window sill within the next second. The carpet does not shift under your weight, but you can't say the same for your stomach, which feels as though it's just plummeted to the pavement below.

"I couldn't sleep last night," Diavolo confesses. "I just couldn't stop looking at the menu. What do you recommend?"

His voice is jittery with excitement and your hand is jittery with nerves, and you give his fingers a tight squeeze to help stabilize yourself. Nobody else that you know gets this excited to eat flash fried food and soggy potatoes, including Levi when there's a kid's meal toy that he wants. You've already seen Diavolo's reaction to the human world candy bar you once snuck him, however, so you're not surprised.

The carpet begins moving. You can feel the wind rolling underneath your legs, and all at once, the carpet has become disturbingly thin. 

"The Aku Burger is kind of like their staple sandwich," you reply.

If you stop looking at Diavolo's face, you'll end up looking at the ground instead. So you stare deep, deep into his sunglasses, pretending you can see the pale yellows of his eyes instead.

You don't really notice the rug's first hiccup - it feels like another bout of particularly bad turbulence to you. 

When the rug suddenly buckles at the middle, however?

The sudden drop separates your heart from your body. Diavolo starts shouting commands at the rug, and you -

You're fairly certain that you're  _ just _ shouting, which might be a bad idea when you really need this magic carpet to listen to Diavolo before you both become splatters on the ground, but you also can't seem to stop yourself. Funny, how the risk of dying sort of rips the agency right out of you.

When the carpet  _ jolts _ to a stop, it's thanks to Diavolo that you don't fly out of your seat. It's like being inside an elevator - when the elevator comes to a stop, but you swear it feels like the floor stops before your feet do. Except worse.

Once you are aware enough to recognize the beating of Diavolo's heart, as he holds you in his arms, rivals your own, you shakily ask, "Is it over?"

The rug answers that question first, promptly dropping the two of you the remaining four feet to the ground.  _ Ow _ . And it would have hurt more, if you hadn't mostly landed on Diavolo.

The second you're back on your feet, you glare at the rug. Diavolo laughs, sympathetic. "Poor old thing. Guess that was too much for you after…"

He stops, patting the top of his head before finishing, "I lost my hat in the fall."

"Don't worry about it. If Barbatos wasn't alerted by all of the noise we just made, I think we're in the clear."

Although the temptation to ask Barbatos really, really nicely if he could please give the two of you one afternoon alone at the movies is growing stronger. Maybe he'll even agree this time, having seen how poorly your attempts at sneaking out from his watch have gone so far.

Diavolo pokes at the rug a few times, uttering spells and charms in an attempt to coax some life back into it. And you swear you hear the rug give an audible gasp before it curls in on itself, the last color in its threads draining for good.

Are you supposed to hold a funeral for the rug? It did almost kill you, although you're fairly certain that wasn't on purpose…

Dying rugs must be more common in the Devildom as well, because Diavolo only sighs. "Guess we'll have to take a car," he decides.

There are all sorts of problems with this plan, including getting the car out of the garage and the front gate without anyone noticing. But the most pressing problem doesn't occur to you until Diavolo hops into the driver's seat and doesn't immediately turn on the ignition.

"Do you know how to drive one of these things?"

Diavolo pauses, but his hands are loose on the steering wheel. His expression is more relaxed than it probably should be when he says, "I've seen Barbatos do this millions of times."

_ The keys _ , you think.  _ You need to get the keys _ .

It takes you a surprisingly long time to figure out how to tell him this, and by the time you do, Diavolo has figured out the problem on his own. So he exits the car, grabs the car's key from the peg it hangs from, and puts his seatbelt back on.

Diavolo has three cars in his family's garage, and he managed to grab the correct key on the first try. This, you realize, might not be a good thing as the car roars into livelihood.

And rolls forward, butting heads with the wall.

"Oops."

Having your second heart attack of the day has made you somewhat numb to the sound of crunching metal. Despite that, your fingers are digging into the leather armrest tightly enough to risk gouging it. Everything else - the ongoing hum of the engine, the fact that Barbatos might actually kill you when he catches up with you - seems so distant.

Thankfully, Diavolo had placed only the lightest amount of pressure on the gas pedal. The fender is probably damaged, but the impact wasn't enough to set the airbags off.

"You forgot…" You release a breath that you hadn't realized you'd been holding, drawing a new one before continuing, "You forgot to… put the vehicle in reverse…"

"I see!" This is still an adventure to Diavolo, which is surprisingly grounding. "Which button does that again?"

Instead of waiting for an answer, like someone normal, he guesses. You can practically hear him yelling "you only live once!" in his thoughts.

You definitely hear the sound the front of the car makes when it crumples like a can of soda. 

The damage wasn't severe enough to activate the airbags, but this car will definitely not be leaving the garage for a while either.

"Don't move the lever so far down next time," says a voice from the backseat.

_ Barbatos _ .

"My lord."

Your vocal chords finally catch up with what your eyes are seeing. Barbatos smiles pleasantly at the way you and Diavolo shout his name simultaneously, "Barbatos!"

"You knew all along?"

"Why didn't you stop us?" You ask. This one probably concerned you more than it did Diavolo - in other words, nobody was going to ask if you didn't ask.

"You may want to redact whatever bargain you made with Asmodeus and Solomon, first of all." Barbatos doesn't have the decency to hesitate, looking first at you and then at Diavolo. "My Lord, I understand that you want time alone with your lover, but you have to understand - there are things in the Devildom that can hurt even the future king, things that you can have no control over. I hope this experience has taught you something."

Underneath the glasses he still hasn't taken off, Diavolo looks like a puppy caught chewing on its humans' shoes.

"That being said," Barbatos sighs so loudly, it's like his ability to scold and discipline is exiting his body, "I do suppose my sitting a table or two away for one tiny trip to Akudonald's wouldn't hurt…"

The puppy inside of Diavolo has just been petted. 

"Next time," you whisper, quietly enough that Barbatos shouldn't hear as he leads the two of you back inside Diavolo's manor, "we're trying my idea with the tinfoil hats, the frog curse, and that teleporting mirror."

Diavolo squeezes your hand just a little bit tighter.

**Author's Note:**

> Can tinfoil really disrupt psychic energy? A continuation where your escape plan scares the shit out of Diavolo is on my mind now.


End file.
